


Kiss Away the Pain, Love Away the Loss

by lacewingss



Series: Inquisitor Haiden Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Crying, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Love, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3895990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacewingss/pseuds/lacewingss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian is taking the news of Felix's death hard, and while Haiden is comforting him he realizes how terrible it must be to lose someone. He needs Dorian to know that he is there for him, and always will be.</p>
<p>Kmeme fill requesting a crying Dorian, and a LI comforting him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Away the Pain, Love Away the Loss

“Hey, Dorian, are you-”

Haiden pushed open the door to his chambers, already calling out in hopes of finding his partner waiting for him. The mage had all but taken up residency in the large quarters, claiming it was a waste of space for only one person. More often than not Haiden would arrive after some errand or other to find Dorian reading by candlelight, or, on the occasions Haiden truly enjoyed, undressed atop the Orlesian silk sheets of his bed.

Tonight the sight that greeted him was far from usual.

Dorian sat slumped on the floor with his back resting against the couch, head hung low as if he were inspecting his feet. If the sight of Dorian on the dusty floor wasn't odd enough, he didn't look up to the sound of Haiden's voice when he entered the room. The candles had even burned low, dripping wax onto the lush carpets Dorian had insisted they import from Tevinter. _Someone's going to have to pay for that,_ Haiden had time to muse, not quite yet picking up on the morose atmosphere hanging about the room.

When he grew closer to Dorian, who had still failed to look up from his feet, he reached out and touched the mage's shoulder. “Why are you on the floor?”

Dorian finally turned to him, lifting his head to acknowledge Haiden's presence. It was then that he knew there was something more pressing than who was going to deal with the ruined rug. When Dorian had looked up Haiden could clearly see the tears in his eyes, and the long streaks they had made down his face.

He was immediately on the floor next to Dorian, sliding close and wrapping one arm around the man. “What's with the tears, love? What's going on?”

Haiden had never seen Dorian cry before. Upset, sure. Flinging indignation and insults around like the fire he controlled – all the time. But the tears were something new, and Haiden already hated them.

Dorian shifted under his arm, looked away. When he spoke it was one word, no more than an exhaled breath.

“Felix,”

“Ah, shit. Is he-” Haiden didn't finish his question, knowing the answer to come before he even started. Dorian's friend, probably one of the few remaining who he kept up with, had been sick the last time they had seen him. The Blight, if Haiden had to guess. The kid had the thickness of its sludge in his veins, corrupting him from the inside out. He knew no one came back from that; besides Wardens, but that outcome hadn't seemed likely. The sickness likely caught up with him, and in the end overtook his body. It was a damn shame, and a testament to the ruthlessness of the darkspawn.

“Dead? Yes, of course he is. Why would I be a wreck like this if he wasn't?” Dorian's head snapped back to Haiden, spitting venom into his words. “I swear, sometimes you are dimmer than I can believe.”

If anyone other than Dorian had spoken to him in that tone Haiden would have either laughed it off, or had his sword drawn before the speaker could say another word. It was often the former, as it simply took less effort to avoid conflict. But tonight he was wise enough to keep his laughter to himself, and his anger checked.

“I'm going to ignore that, because I know you're hurting.”

The fight vanished from Dorian's expression, replaced again with a fresh well of tears. “I-I'm sorry amatus.” He clenched his fist, looked away again, as if letting Haiden see the pain on his face was as unacceptable as its cause. “ _Damned Felix._ Couldn't just go out the easy way fighting, could he? No, noble Felix had to accept his death and make fucking peace with it.”

Dorian's voice hitched, betraying his surge of emotion. He might have been attempting to sound angry; even to _be_ angry, but Haiden knew him better than that. “It shouldn't have happened. He was a good man and he died young and undeservedly.”

Despite Dorian's stiff posture and his avoidance of his gaze, Haiden kept his arm around the mage, not once loosening his grip. “I'm so sorry, Dorian. I know you two were close.”

In all honesty Haiden wasn't sure _how_ close they were had been. Dorian tended to avoid speaking of his past, and though Haiden certainly loved to pry, he never got very far. It was best to leave it well enough alone, anyway. He imagined when Dorian was ready to share more with him, he would. It didn't stop the occasional pestering, but he got little more than the abridged version of Dorian's time spent with Alexeius and Felix.

“Close? He was the best man I ever knew. Unbearably gentle and kind. Always wanting to 'make things right' and 'be a better man.' Well, there's no time for that now, is there?”

The bitterness that laced Dorian's words sounded wrong, and Haiden wanted to forget he ever heard them. For his lover to be so upset, so terribly _unhappy_ with the world was a strike at his own heart. It felt so wrong to him that he couldn't just leave it be – and what kind of man would that make him if he did, anyway?

So instead of simply agreeing with Dorian and giving in to his pessimistic views, Haiden nuzzled closer, pressing his side to Dorian's. “Not for him, no.”

“And what exactly are you getting at?” There was still malice in the mage's voice, but it was retreating, creeping back to the pit that lies in everyone's mind, waiting to open up and swallow them whole.

“Nothing important right now. Come here,” He reached over to wrap his other arm around Dorian, pulling him into his chest and holding him there. He could feel the tenseness of Dorian's muscles, all clenched tight and tangled in knots atop knots.

“It's senseless. It's fucking senseless and I _don't stand for this.”_

Pressed near to Haiden, Dorian must have felt safe. One moment he was cursing the death of good men, and the next his quiet tears turned to sobs. The first wracking heave of Dorian's body surprised Haiden; the slender frame of his lover was, in his eyes, nothing but grace. Now it hunched and moved in time with the shuddering intakes of breath, straining in his embrace.

His shock did not last long. Instead of pulling away he held onto Dorian tighter, letting him use his own body as a source of stability. He soon felt hands move to his back and fingers dig in, clinging to his skin and flesh like a life line in a storm torn sea. There would no doubt be bruises later, but it mattered little. Haiden would wear them with pride, knowing he was there for Dorian when he needed it.

When his shirt was beginning to wet through with Dorian's tears, Haiden lifted one hand from around the other man and began to stroke his hair in reassuring motions, whispering nothing words into his ear. He knew there was nothing he could say now that would ease the pain; only time and release would do that. So he kept his hands busy rubbing Dorian's shoulders, wiping the tears from his cheeks, and grasping his hands.

It hurt him straight to his core to see Dorian so distraught. The mage's tears felt like his tears, and his pain his own. Of course Haiden knew little of Felix, and was not so moved by his death. It was the pain of his lover that made his breath catch in his throat, and the burn of impending tears sting his eyes.

The sensation was not one Haiden was accustomed to. He cared for others, sure. He even had found himself in situations much like this before. His sisters, Maker bless them, had enough tears throughout their lives for him to comfort away. But this was different. Each new sob of Dorian's was a dagger, twisting and ripping apart the light of the world.

He wanted nothing more than for Dorian to stop his crying, but knew that it needed to run its course. “Hey, it's ok. It's alright, love. Go on.” Encouraging Dorian felt like the right thing to do, and indeed the man increased the ferocity of his cries, and pressed his face farther into Haiden's shoulder. With lips that trembled, Haiden kissed the top of Dorian's head over and over, all the while clutching their two bodies together.

Shadows had long since shown themselves on the walls when Dorian finally quieted. It was a gradual shift from the tormented sobs to a weak sniffling, and eventually nothing was left. Dorian released his grasp on Haiden, and now slumped into him as if even the act of sitting up was too exhausting. Following suit, Haiden loosened his embrace, removing one arm from around the other man in order to place it on his chin and lift his face up.

Dorian's eyes were rimmed with red, puffy from the effort of crying. His tears had strained his face, leaving lines of slick moisture on the rose flushed skin. Disheveled from Haiden's hands running through it, his hair stuck out in angles that would certainly have disgusted him if he knew. Fine strands stuck to the heat of his forehead and tangled together. He looked a complete mess.

“Huh. Looks like I found the one time you don't look absolutely perfect.” Haiden leaned forward, kissing beneath Dorian's eyes and wiping the last few tears away with his lips. His skin was salty and wet, almost the same as when he tasted sweat with his tongue during the throes of passion. “Still pretty close though.”

He was rewarded with a fragile smile, which was a welcome sight. “Closer than you'll ever be.”

“Hey now, you're supposed to be too sad to sass me.”

Dorian chuckled, and some of the light returned to Haiden's world. This was his Dorian. Not the one weak and hurt in his arms.

“What would I do without you, amatus?” Dorian's voice was hardly above a whisper, but Haiden heard it ring in his ears with the force of a war horn. A broad grin transformed his face, and he squeezed Dorian into his chest yet again. The sarcasm and guarded words were all part of what he loved about Dorian, but when he was comfortable enough to let his facade fade away and share his love it was the greatest feeling Haiden had ever known.

“Ah, you'd be fine. You're tough.” Haiden began to untangle himself from Dorian as he spoke, and rose to his feet. “Though of course you won't ever get the chance to find out. Cause you're stuck with me now.”

“Oh dear. Now how did I get myself into that?”

It was Haiden's turn to laugh, happy that his lover was perking up a bit. Still, the ordeal was far from over, and Dorian looked exhausted. With ease he bent down and picked the other man up, ignoring the half hearted demands to be left go. He carried Dorian to the bed and gently set him down on top of the sheets before climbing on next to him.

He spent a moment gazing at Dorian, who had closed his eyes in rest. The fine lines of stress were relaxing, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest told of comfort. A sudden fear struck him then; what if one day it was him in Dorian's place? What if during one of the many dangerous missions they were sent on Dorian didn't make it back? Would he crumple to the floor as his love had done, and howl late into the night in heart break? There would be no one to comfort him, as he had done for Dorian.

The thought was unbearable. Utterly unthinkable. Pushing it as far back into his mind as he possibly could, Haiden shifted forward and kissed Dorian, lingering near the man's lips. He could feel the smile forming on the lips beneath his, and the tickle of Dorian's mustache under his nose.

Haiden wanted to move in, to deepen the kiss until all he could feel was the pressure of his lovers body against him and the heat of their affection. He pulled away, though, and gazed at Dorian thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him.

“You know you're a good man, too, right? Felix wasn't the only one.”

The stress lines were back on Dorian's face, and he attempted to turn away. “Not now, Haiden. Let me be for a few moments.”

“Not yet.” Haiden pushed himself up onto an elbow, and stared down at Dorian, keeping his eyes intent on the others. “I need you to listen to me.”

Haiden's tone begged no disobedience, and most people upon hearing it shut their mouths and did as he said. Dorian was more than used to it by now, though. “Yes, you are quite needy with that, aren't you?”

“I'm serious. You can't keep thinking you're shit; and that self deprecating stunt you pull while you're being all narcissistic, well, it's pretty fucking charming, but I know what's behind it.” The ice of Haiden's eyes would not let Dorian's go; he was determined to make his point. One hand took hold of Dorian's shoulder and held it in his strong grip, not allow the mage to wiggle away. The passion he felt poured off him in waves and swells, impossible to miss. “You are a _good person,_ Dorian. You wouldn't be here if you weren't, and _Maker's balls_ I love you for it.”

Dorian merely stared at him, soaking in the words. Haiden nearly panicked when he saw the shimmer of new tears welling in Dorian's eyes, but was relieved to realize they were not tears of pain. The mage hastily wiped them away, and the next smile he gave was warm enough to heat the entirety of Skyhold.

“Thank you, amatus. I suppose you're right.”

Flopping to his back, Haiden grinned and pulled Dorian over to rest on his chest. “It happens every now and again.”

“More often than you think, I believe.” More kind words; words that Haiden would treasure, as he would treasure each and every moment spent beside the man whom he had fallen for so completely.

Some time passed, the waning of the moon outside progressing the night. Haiden kept one arm around Dorian, wondering if the man was going to slip into slumber. When it seemed unlikely, he began to press soft kisses into his neck, giving him something to focus on other than the sadness of the evening.

He was uncertain if Dorian believed his insistence that he was a good man, or even his declarations of love. It was pure truth to Haiden, but it was possible Dorian needed time to figure it out himself, and to let himself believe he was capable of being loved in such a way. So be it. Haiden would gladly give him that time, and in the mean while he would do all he could to show the man the truth of it.

When his lips reached Dorian's he kissed him long and deep, in a manner that would have left the mage weak on his feet if he had been standing. His hands made for Dorian's hair yet again, this time his palms keeping the other man's head held in place for him to continue kissing.

His other hand roamed Dorian's body, feeling the curve of his muscles and the magic that surged beneath the skin. It was hot like fire, but Haiden knew it could not burn him more than the heat in his heart. Before long the two men were locked in embrace yet again, their mouths searching for any part of the other they could find. Little noises of pleasure escaped both sets of lips, urging the other on.

Perhaps this wasn't the time for such intimacy. Dorian had just suffered a terrible loss, and maybe it was insensitive to want to make love to him now. The mage was not refusing, though, nor was he showing any signs other than the desire for more affection. And really, what better way was there to honor death than with life, and love?

Their love making was slow and languid. Haiden rested on top of Dorian, holding himself up with one arm while the other traced the lines of Dorian's body and his eyes searched for the love in his partner's. His back was warm with Dorian's arms, and his cheeks and neck moist from frequent kisses. He took his time pulling out from Dorian and sliding back in, savoring the heat he felt when inside and the way his lovers body would respond in pleasure.

Haiden was quiet tonight; a rarity that somehow made the act more meaningful. The hush of the night around them closed in, shielding them from the hurt of the world outside of their own two bodies. There was nothing left but each other. All pain was washed away with beads of sweat and replaced with comfort from the lips of lovers.

When Dorian climaxed Haiden could not take his eyes off of his face. The man was more gorgeous than he had ever been - flushed, still disheveled from a night of strong emotions, and completely vulnerable. The sight of such trust pushed Haiden over the edge himself, and he released himself inside of Dorian, feeling the same pleasure his lover did.

Left breathless, the two men were silent as they lay entwined in the tangled sheets, letting the night wash over them. There would be more to say tomorrow, when the sun shed its harsh light on the still raw wounds of loss, but tonight there was nothing more. They were spent – physically, emotionally, in all the ways they could be. There was pain, but there was also love and comfort and the faith that whatever the world threw at them, they would get through it together.


End file.
